He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. His orgasm was quick, spasmodic. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. ” He woke the glassy water to swirling activity again, and made the deep-blue shapes below writhe and shiver. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them.
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